


From out of the Darkness

by thyla23



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-03
Updated: 2011-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-23 09:28:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/248783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thyla23/pseuds/thyla23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something from the darkness comes for Jack/Face of Boe...</p>
            </blockquote>





	From out of the Darkness

He could feel it, whatever 'it' was it, it was coming for him; there was nothing he could do to resist it, no escaping it.

He knew he had evaded death's grasp countless times; there were times he felt grateful and others where he wished he could do anything to just make it all stop.

Ending up in a jar was a surprise (not a welcome one), he longed for his old body back, to be able to look in a mirror and see a cheeky grin wink back at him.

He felt hollow, everything he loved had died, there wasn't a thing he could do to stop that, always fighting a battle to remember people, even after several centuries from when they had died. There was one person he just couldn't let go of, Ianto Jones. He had known his time with the Welshman was numbered, due to Torchwood; even if Ianto had left Torchwood, he would have still outlived him, and face watching Ianto grow old and eventually die.

He had made a promise; to never forget. Memories of Ianto were hazy, some clearer than others, but still there, that's what had counted.

He could almost feel something reach out for him. The world was slipping away from him and he was so happy. Even if it was just to die and enter eternal blackness, he would welcome it with open arms. But it wasn't darkness; someone was reaching out to him, calling to him. The smell of freshly brewed coffee permeated the air. There was a voice, a voice calling out to him in unmistakable Welsh vowels. He ran, finally, his old body had been restored to him; all he could do was run, keep running. And there he was; his Ianto. He couldn't believe it was him, not after all this time.

He drew closer, close enough to touch. Reaching out he touched Ianto's cheek and whispered "Ianto? It can't be, is that really you?"

Smiling Ianto responded "Yes sir and I come bearing gifts. Well more like a gift, of coffee."

He couldn't care if he was in some hallucination; he had his Ianto back and everything else, well that could be forgotten about.


End file.
